A Knight and Her Princess
by vikingforev
Summary: Maura Isles, a princess of Ireland whose only fate lies in Boston. Jane Rizzoli, a rebellious woman who works under the law of the King in America. Two females, one town, and a million reasons why they end up at eachother's doors.
1. Chapter 1: Thieves and Damsels

The Royal family entered Court with their heads held high. Their passing was completely formal; all loyal nobles knelt beside the thrones where they'd seat themselves. Compared to other families of royal descent, the Isles were fairly decent. When it came to taxes, the Royals proved responsible by agreeing to pay the same amount as every man did on the islands. The only law they passed that the public didn't care much for was The Maura's Plan. Since giving birth to their newest addition, baby Maura Isles, Queen Olivia had pleaded that her husband take into consideration what kind of world he wanted their only daughter to grow up in. King Lous took no hesitation in setting forth this law that prevented men or women under the age of fifteen from consuming alcohol.

Maura looked almost like her mother's clone. She was Olivia's blood child, but secretly not the daughter of King Lous. In fact, Olivia didn't know where her real father had ran off to. He wasn't the father Maura needed, but that's what Olivia kept telling herself to suppress the pain. She'd spend _her _nights rocking _her _child in _her _arms. King Lous wasn't the type to express his affection which was initially why Queen Olivia Paelyn Isles had searched for another's heart to synchronize with her own. And, yes, he gave her that. Maura's true father, Patrick Doyle, gave her everything she had ever wanted. Even a daughter.

That was untill Lous became obsessed with Maura's facial features. Her captivating hazel eyes...they were not his. They were not her mother's either. Both of them had piercing blue diamonds to see the world through. Then there was her nose. It was Olivia's nose, but not quite. The baby's lips were too thin, yet pouting, to be even considered a passing trait from his bloodline. The Isles originally had full, firm mouths. It came down to her eyebrows. They were similar to his, but still...he should have given her more physical traits. Olivia's golden-red hair matched Maura's, but Maura's had a...a slight tint to it. A lighter blonde laced through her slightly curled hair, and Lous knew from that one observation that Maura was indeed not his. He overlooked her cheek and jaw structures when Olivia dared to point out that they nearly matched his.

"Who is Maura's father, my Queen?" There came the blunt question Olivia had been avoiding since giving birth.

"Your's, Lous. I assure you she is." But she wasn't all that convincing. Queen Olivia was known for her inability to tell a lie without her voice shifting pitches.

"Lies!" cried the King as he stomped towards her while she still held baby Maura in her arms.

"Please, do not harm me while I hold this treasure," Olivia began before Lous could lay a hand on her, "I'm sorry, my King, but it is like you said. She is not your daughter, but she is mine."

King Lous looked slightly intimidated by the Queen's open confession. He reached into his scabbard, prepared to slaughter any man, women, or child in sight if they dare so interrupted his love's words. The guards stationed in Maura's room remained silent. Their eyes never left the blank walls they seemed to interest themselves in.

"But I be your wife, and I be your half heart. Maura, this lovely daughter you have that loves you without knowledge she is not your's, is going to grow up to be a magnificant lady. She'll make you proud to be her father. You will be her father...even if in her eyes only. Trust, my dear, that I shall never stray from our bond again. I apologize to my utmost that I committed such a betrayal, but I come bearing an ample aplogy with a growing child who-look! Even now she yearns to hear her father's heart close to her's."

As if on cue, Maura's hands left her mother's chest and she reached for Lous. The King took a moment to process what he was just given. There was only one way he could go about this.

"Where is thy father, Maura? Do tell for your mother care not to speak his name so freely I assume."

Maura's wide, hazel eyes squinted as if she understood him. As if a two month old could actually know what inquiry he had carelessly thrown out into the air.

"No answer. From you too, Olivia?" King Lous asked with growing irritation.

"No, my tongue cannot pronounce his name without disfavorably sharpening the syllables."

King Lous registered that his wife was again betraying him by lying. She could speak his name, her honoured love, over and over without a hint of disgust. Her voice was sweet, but her pitch was high. This called for immediate action if he wished to keep such a beauty within his chambers.

"Olivia Paelyn Isles, if that child is not far from this castle...from these islands...by morn, then you will be left to hang your head forever in shame and walk the lone streets without a coin's worth to your name-"

"Please be reasonable, Lous, she's-"

"No!" Lous shouted with a fierce step forward causing Olivia to retreat further to the southern wall, "She is not _mine_.I will not lie to her her whole existence. She at least..." His voice softened as he took Maura from Olivia, clearly making her mother concerned.

"She at least will be given a fair life. One she can make her own, and by her own standards. Maura may keep her surname, but she will never be allowed back on these islands ever again. She will never know her true mother as she will never know her true father. Countless days of wandering when old enough will only describe her determination, not her lack of results. This girl, this daughter of a man who's stolen my wife's heart, will be as you said-magnificant. But she will not be magnificant here. I am sorry, my dear, but you must give her to a trusted servant and send her far off. Say your goodbye, and be quick for love comes not when Cupid hits his target, but through the swift time between his bow and his victim."

The next morning, Olivia wiped away her salty tears and bid her baby, "I love you, Maura Isles. Blessed be."

Robert Eunik laid the daughter against his chest, smiling politely towards the delirious Queen who couldn't seem to decide whether or not she wanted to jump into the boat and join them on their journey, or remain in her homeland with the husband she lost interest in. Unfortunately, it was the latter. She folded her hands behind herself, continuing to watch the sails guide her daughter away and towards the foreign land she'd soon be accustomed to-America.

* * *

"Janie, you told me you weren't going to stuff dead toads in your pockets anymore!" cried Angela, tossing the decaying animal out the window of their small cottage.

"Ma! Gabriel's over!" A strangled laugh indicated a small boy was definitely in her living room area.

Angela froze with a helpless tug at her lips. She knew her four year old Jane would be fuming now that her mother had shared her odd hobby with the boy she crushed on. Angela sighed with a nice smile and walked out with a tray in her hands.

"I made your favorite, Janie. Herb bread and soup. You're welcome to help yourself, Gabriel, I brought an extra bowl and piece for yourself."

"Thank you, Angela," Gabriel said with a cute grin. He didn't mind being so familiar with the Rizzoli's. Especially now that he had his mind set on one day marrying Jane Clementine Rizzoli when he was older. Gabriel gave Jane an encouraging nudge, expecting her to push back, but surprising himself when she just sulked.

"Come on, Jane," he began when Angela left them alone, "I like you. I stuff them toads in my pockets all the time."

"You do?" Hope was evident in her sunken, dark-brown eyes.

"Course!" the boy answered with a little too much passion. He cleared his throat and clarified, "I don't care much about the killin' them, but I like to pick 'em up if I see 'em all by themselves. Can't help much to pick up a stranger when they call out to you without speaking a thing. I think toads are special."

"I like that," Jane replied when she started to eat her soup.

She had just about to dip her bread when Gabriel checked, "You like that I think toads are special?"

A short howl of rich laughter sounded from deep within Jane's throat. It was now apparent to Gabriel he had made the wrong guess, "Then what?"

"The other thing you mentioned. 'Bout strangers and pickin' 'em up. I like that."

"Say it for me," Gabriel insisted. In truth, he had been rambling because Jane had those warm brown eyes on him and forgotten what he had said.

"Can't help much to pick up a stranger when they call out to you without speaking a thing. I like that, Gabe."

With another one of his boyish grins, Gabriel agreed, "I like that too."

* * *

Twenty-six years had gone by. The Renaissance proved quite enlightening to Maura's mother, Constance. She spoke highly of the artists she had been assigned to as an instructor. Everyone in Boston knew how well Constance Darlene-Isles could assemble masterpieces. She had the creator's mind, but not the patience. That's why she taught students to express themselves through their work.

Maura had turned twenty-six about a few months ago. It wasn't certain that was her real birthday, because Constance admitted she hadn't asked Robert Eunik when she was really born. Yes, Maura knew about her adoption. She knew she didn't belong to Constance Darlene the moment she could think for herself. Constance Darlene looked nothing like Maura Isles. Maura had strawberry blonde hair, while Constance had an unique shade of brown. Maura's eyes were constant hazel while Constance's eyes were an ever-changing blue. Then Constance had the sense to explain to Maura that she had not only adopted the girl when she was but an infant, but adopted the last name as well to make her fit in.

The story was one Maura loved to listen to. Even if Constance wasn't big on spending quality time with her daughter. Constance shared that she had just arrived back in Boston when a strange looking sailboat pushed ashore. There, he came! Robert Eunik in all his glory with an infant so unlike the children Constance had seen before in America.

"I traveled alot back then," Constance would pause the story to say.

Maura wanted to remind her she still did. Which usually left Maura alone with Clodelia, their black housewife. Her mother would continue to explain that Robert was trying to find her a good home by testing various people's knowledge. When Constance thought she'd have a go just for fun, Eunik pointed her out. That's when Constance had adopted a baby without even realizing what she had done.

"Was I a generally appealing baby?"

"Yes, but I've seen better looking babies in paintings! Hm, but I just hoped you'd grow into something beautiful."

"Did I?"

"Oh! I have to get going. The art show will be happening soon, and I must attend! Tata, darling!" Her mother always liked to make grand exits, accenting her voice in French. Her native land, Constance had revealed.

Maura returned to reality when a scrolls were handed over, "Miss Isles?"

"Yes?" she asked weakly.

"Those are the applications. For the Healer's."

"Oh yes, thank you Margerie. You may go home for the day."

"Thank you, Miss Isles! I fare thee well!" called Margerie already halfway down the corridor of the mansion. She had just been promoted to a Healer, a privelege Maura rarely handed out.

"Blessed be," Maura near whispered. She didn't know why she said it when departing with fellow folk, but it came naturally from her lips. At a young age, Maura had decided not to resist letting her instincts take over.

The Healers were a fine business she ran. Although it was improper to be a Healer and a woman, she didn't mind receiving a few pondering gazes. This work was what she was born to do, and she was _magnificant _at her occupation.

The Renaissance was still in effect. Maura, unsure whether she should wear her black girdle or her white one, randomly spun her finger to have it land on her bed covering. She sighed and snatched the white girdle off the bed, figuring the black one would make it too hot in mid summer. Her hands tied the lace that stopped just at the peak of her chest, tucking the small bow she had made into the garment. Breathing was work itself, but she had to look her best always.

Meanwhile, clear on the other side of Boston where the peasants usually lived, Jane scrambled to find her sword. The thief was getting away! She pursued him after she had gotten back the long-sword and cornered him on the Umber Crossroads. His breathing caused Jane to act swiftly. Her hands extended with the hilt in her palms, the blade diving into his thigh causing a short growl, and when all was done, the thief laid on the ground writhing in pain.

"I've not seen a better chase in all my years," called Korsak when he arrived on his white steed. Korsak led the law in these parts. He was even close allies with King Quince.

Frost rode up behind him on his own brown horse, turning the animal's head this way and that to situate the girl better. He grinned in Korsak's direction, "That's saying something. You're practically ancient."

"You keep your tongue before I cut it out, Frost," Korsak joked back with mild acceptance.

"Oh, come now you two men aren't supposed to be bickering in front of a lady," Jane humored as she put her trusted hat back on her feather began to tilt, but blowing it up with a quick puff of air she returned it to its natural position.

The men both looked at her as if she was crazy. Jane chuckled, slowing her raspy voice to assure them, "I've amused you yet." That created a laughing response from the two.

Days seemed worth waking up to now that Jane was secretly administered into the law guild. She thanked the heavens above that King Quince had his eyes set on her for some time, so he allowed her to advance in the profession she thought suitable. King Quince wasn't attracted to Jane, no, he just admired her spunky attitude and her willingness to trade a lady's life for a man's. Although it was unheard of, King Quince was fond over the woman and spoke highly of her morals. She was the very idea of the renaissance. A rebirth, a being who taught the world that having woman features did not mean she was a lady at heart. She could be whatever she wished to be.

"Aw, evening Jo Freyday."

Jo wagged her tail when Jane shut the wooden door behind her, reassuring the woman's best friend that she was staying for awhile. Usually, Jane was everywhere _but _home. Jane casually sauntered to the seating sofa she owned. She plopped her butt down on it with a great sigh. It was nice to relax now and then, but her soul belonged to the law. If Korsak or Frost came barging in with another case, she'd take it in a beat of the heart.

"You know, Jo, I've been wondering about him," Jane carefully chose her words, "And I understand he's not off far. I can feel it in my bones. I can..."

Peering down at her palms, Jane knitted her eyebrows, wishing the scars to magically disappear, "I can feel him near when they ache. My hands."

It had been only three years ago, but Jane could recall the day she was taken by Charles Hoyt clearly. Scenes flashed in her mind before she had the chance to lock them away again. Jane needed to focus on something else so she rose to her feet. She pushed her coarse, waving, black hair out of her face and rested her attention on the book of poems she had started. Jane had outgrown stuffing dead toads in her pockets. Her new guilty hobby was writing poetry.

She went on to read her poem in her mind:

_Amazed as I be,_

_ The softest of petals are torn,_

_ Compared to thee,_

_ I've willed myself touched by a thorn._

_ Never will and never take,_

_ A beauty matched by the Creator's sake,_

_ I'll search the earth for a corky love,_

_ I thank thee Creator, all heavens above!_

_ Glades of green, mossy hues,_

_ Trees of darkest brown,_

_ Compared to you I'm only blue,_

_ When you've set your face upon a frown._

_ So, here I step with mighty courage,_

_ Afraid you'll need my countless encourage,_

_ To be the being you were born to be,_

_ I'll love thee forever, let the sand meet the sea._

Her heart collided with the words on the thin pieces of parchment. Why did love seem so confusing? She practically groaned when she shut the book and hid it back under the wardrobe. Jane sat on her bed with a pensive appearance. _I'm not a little girl who believes in princes who ride in on white horses with shimmering armour, so why do I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach? I'm not supposed to be weak!_

Believing that succumbing to the effects of loving another made her weak, Jane decided to avoid the fear by riding out tonight on her own horse, Black Willow, to the only place she felt her past couldn't reach her-Central District.

Central District wasn't at all what Maura expected it to be when she made her way through the streets in her carriage. It was clean, yet not as tidy as Upper District. The streets were flocked with bustling citizens who, out of no respect, did not clear the roads as quickly as Maura hoped they would when her carriage gradually rolled on. She had wanted to make a quick trip into Central District to find a few odd findings the market owners were able to come across. Last moon, she was able to obtain a tortoise that arrived from Europe. Maura ended up naming him Bass.

"Miss Isles?" Truman called from the front of the carriage. He's been her driver for years.

"Yes?"

"We haven't the luck on our sides it seems. I'm betting to make it to that little market place you usually go to...it'll be bells before you get there." Hours. She didn't have hours.

"Truman, will you do me a favor?" Maura asked as she draped her posh, midnight-black cloak around her shoulders.

"Course, miss Isles."

"Schedule a return at eight late. I'm going to walk there. It'll be much quicker."

"But miss Isles! There are thieves and hooligans. You'll be robbed or worse. You must stay inside. Darlene will most upset with me if otherwise."

"Truman, please. I've taken defense classes within the keep, and I'm certain that I'll be fine."

Truman did not press her. Maura would have gone into a speech about her muscles and bones that desperately wanted to be worked on, but she time was slipping through her filangees. So instead, Maura Isles stepped out of her glorious carriage and came face-to-face with a beggar. She blinked her wide, hazel eyes at how uneven his features appeared. His yellow eyes were bulging, a possible sign he carried diseases. The man lifted his hands to her face, cupping the air almost.

"Change for poor me?"

"Your cheeks, what happened?"

The beggar made an effort to glance down at his cheeks, "What do you mean?"

"The zygomatic bones are molded with your maxilla. An unknown deformity I've yet to see. It may risk the passage of the zygomaticofacial nerve and vessels. You must make a date to see to a Healer. Straight away."

It didn't seem the beggar understood her, but he nodded in any case. He wasn't after her professional advice, but her money. So again he tried, "Change so I may see to a Healer?"

"If I didn't, I'd be a shame to my fellow Healers," Maura replied chipperly and handed him over ten gold coins. The beggar looked as if he had never held such an amount in his entire lifetime. He thanked her politely and ran off to find the nearest pub.

Making her way down the streets, Maura explored the various shops she had never cared to venture in. She confirmed her suspicions. They were items of no value. Copies of the real thing. Maura could never afford to purchase such disasters! Finally arriving at the general market place she loved, the Healer began to peruse the merchandise. There were already a few pieces she was sure to have by the time Truman made a loop and picked her up. Maura bought a few pieces here and there, then continued to head further into Central District. This was her first time setting foot on the territory for more than a bell. It was exhilerating, an experience!

"Miss!" cried a woman with a baby in her arms. "Your purse!"

Maura widened her eyes and glanced down to find her purse was missing. Looking up just in time, Maura caught sight of the culprit who dashed through the crowds with an amazing speed.

"No, someone stop him! He has my purse!"

But no one seemed to pay attention. She realized that she was running before she had the time to think what she was about to do.

Jane had seen this too many times. In fact, she had caught one earlier. A thief with astonishing agility darted pass the shops with a vivid purple purse clutched in his hand. He would look back with a grin to spy the woman far back who made a real effort to get the purse. She wouldn't catch up to him. He was a regular Jane hadn't had the chance to beat.

"It isn't nice stealing from a baby," Jane raised her voice as the thief passed the alley she had been hiding out in.

"Yeah?" the thief slowed, his pride visible, "Guess she oughtta grow up then. Why, who's going to stop me? Her?"

They both glimpsed at the woman who still had her cloak over her head even while running down the street. The wind made no attempt to knock it off. He grinned, the thief, and propped his hands on his hips. His success would be short.

"Hand it back to her."

This caused the thief to furrow his eyebrows and ask, "Why? You aren't the law. You're a lady."

"Not completely." Jane barely tapped Black Willow's sides with her heels. The stallion briskly stepped forward so the thief could see them both better. His eyes immediately rounded. He knew exactly who she was, and who didn't? King Quince knew her.

"By the gods," he half whispered. The thief suddenly continued to run again. This time his feet could not go a yard, because Jane raced him with Black Willow. She reached down with her arm and scooped up his collar in her hand, carrying him with ease. Her muscles flexing as she tossed him head first into a fountain. With a scream, the thief hit his face with marble and collapsed into the water.

Everyone was wary now of what was happening. They kept their attention on Jane and the thief, unaware that Maura had came up and was apart of the mess too.

"Now, do as I say or you'll be regretting the fact I let you off with only a bruise to the face."

"Actually," Maura helplessly cut in, "With the measure of velocity and the angle you threw him at, he's most likely fractured his mandible. The fractures must be around the symphyseal area and condylar neck. See the swelling near those?"

"Milady, if I knew what they were and what you meant, I'd agree. But since I've no expertise in Healer business, I'm just going to send him on his way stating he's a little bruise," Jane voiced with authority. Maura hushed herself from making the scene any bigger.

"I'm not a patient person," Jane reminded the thief who jumped up with a wince and walked directly to Maura.

"My apologies!" He thrusted the purse into her arms and stepped away.

"And whom are you speaking to?"

"It's..quite alright, I thank you for giving it back sir-"

"Enough," Jane demanded. Maura compressed her lips into a thin line.

"My apologies, milady..." the thief choked out.

"Yes, thank you," Maura quietly murmured as Jane had Black Willow stomp her two front feet on the ground signaling the thief to take off. Jane watched him disappear with growing satisfaction.

She turned back to the woman who had her purse back in hand, "You must be from Upper District. My own apologies for being short with you, milady. But, I've seen his dirty work before and I won't allow it much longer."

"I understand." Maura searched Jane's brown eyes with her own. She wanted to understand at least. She figured lowering her hood would be reasonable now that everyone already knew she wasn't a commoner around these parts.

Maura carefully dropped the hood; Jane was impressed. She was definitely not from around here. The woman was too clean, too...flawless to be even Central District folk.

The strawberry blonde was otherwise captivated by how prominant this woman's bone structure was. It was easy to notice her face first, but Maura took the liberty of washing her eyes over the rest of the female. The bronze skin was layered with a thin layer of dust, but it only added to the female's rebellious appearance.

Jane was taken back by the woman's interest in her physique, "Well...you should probably head back to the Upper District. Crimes are frequent in these parts. They tend to go after your persons as well."

"My persons?" Maura asked with a shake of her head to draw her out of her haze.

"Your persons. The Upper District citizens. Ones who aren't smart enough to hide their purses under their cloaks, and...wear clothes less striking. You're a walking target."

"I am? But these clothes are hand made by Devonochi herself! They are of the best value."

Blinking, Jane repeated, "A walking target." She flashed her palm, a goodbye, and rode off in the opposite direction leaving Maura to question who exactly she had just met...and if she would ever have the honor of seeing the woman again.


	2. Chapter 2: The Caretaker

Near two months had gone by. Jane Rizzoli hadn't seen a winter quite like this. Snowflakes were making themselves present already during the eleventh moon. They were scattered along the pebble roads she led Black Willow down. Branching off down a narrow, winding dirt road, Jane mentally prepared herself for Angela's incessant shoving. Not physically, but definitely whatever way else she could in order to get her only daughter to marry a fine man.

If only Jane condescended enough to allow Angela in, her mother might be able to see that Jane was afraid of falling for another guy at this point. The last man in her life, Grant, left her wanting so much more after coming short of the real thing. And it was all thanks to Angela! She had set the two up in the first place.

Jane groaned to herself, "Why must you be so hard-headed?" A famous line Angela repeated when Jane refused to let her mother run her life. "Why couldn't you have grown up wearing frilly, pink dresses and adorning your face with that crap they call powder? You could've been a real daughter. You could've given your mother a real daughter who would've grown up to be a real woman. But you're just this."

At the mention of herself, Jane looked down at her body as if to check if she was a female after all. Her assets proved so but her mind, heart, and soul disagreed. When Jane went to school as a kid, she was always teased for wearing her younger brother's clothes-which she was able to do thanks to how close their ages were. And her toned form.

"All heavens above, Jane Clementine!" Angela shouted when she heard those all-too-familiar footsteps sounding through the hall after her front door shut. "Where have you been during these past few weeks?"

"Slaying beasts. Sparring with the boys in the snow," Jane sarcastically voiced behind her mother who worked over the small stove while preparing lunch.

"Men, Janie. Frost and Korsak are men. Unlike you! Stop being so difficult," Angela corrected her sharply. Glancing over her shoulder to spy her daughter, Angela continued, "And even Korsak had the decency to drop by and say hello to everybody. You-I haven't seen you since it last hailed." It hailed only a night ago, but Jane decided it was best not to argue further.

Instead she sighed guiltily, "My apologies, Ma. I just got caught up with all that's going on within the law. Did you know Granger has been back in Boston?" When her mother only stared at her in confusement, Jane clarified, "The Masked Murderer."

"Oh! He's back? Do you all have a lead on him? Has he started killing again?"

"No, thankfully. But we've got people admitting they've seen him around Central District."

Her mother exhaled in unsubtle relief, "Well thank the heavens, and the Creator above. All those poor souls he's tortured-"

"Those girls."

Seeming taken back by Jane's short response, Angela softened her gaze at the other female Rizzoli. She secretly understood why Jane had said it aloud. This Granger, this murderer, reminded her daughter of the man she desperately searched for. Hoyt. And although Angela feared bringing it up, she hinted sometimes to Jane that she was there to talk to if ever the nightmares returned from before. So far Jane had assured her they were gone.

She was lying most of those times. It was hard not to when she was afraid her mother would become too involved than she already was.

"Anyway, your father is out tending to the fields. You should go speak with him. He's been off lately." The way her mother said 'off' sent a chill down Jane's spine.

"What do you mean, Ma?" When Angela only gestured to the back door, Jane figured she'd better leave it at that and find out for herself.

_ Falsely pretending to worry, Maura knew her next move even before her opponent went. Clodelia took a long time to think about her decisions, but she was one of the brightest women Maura had challenged for a game of chess. At a few points during the game, Maura actually predicted her losing. _

_ "Checkmate," the Healer smiled. Her fingers hung near the other side of the board-wrapped around the head of the white bishop._

_ "Knock 'em o'er!" Clodelia clasped her hands with a toothy grin. Her ruby-red lips a vivid contrast against the backdrop of her ebony skin. Even when she lost, Clodelia knew how to appreciate the actual game. Maura loved her for it._

The tears came back almost instantly. After fighting them from spilling over and onto her cheeks for so long, Maura couldn't help but to feel exhausted. She sank to the floor with a silent sob that racked her whole body. Losing Clodelia to the plague had affected Maura too deeply. She had hoped one too many times that the black woman conceived her. They were alike in so many ways that Maura couldn't help but to imagine her skin being as dark as the woman who kept in her sight during her life. When everyone else left her, she wasn't alone; there was Clodelia. Although Clodelia was frowned upon when Maura introduced her to her mother's society, Maura reassured the housewife that they didn't see past their noses.

Now though-well now Maura was alone. Constance didn't even stay long enough to rearrange the ceremony for Clodelia. Over and over she apologized to Maura, but didn't once stop as she crossed the house to exit the front door. Paris. She had snuck off to Paris in order to free herself of her emotionally distressed daughter. Of course, Maura didn't want to think of it like that. She constantly made excuses for her adoptive mother. Luckily for her she knew alot of excuses to use thanks to her endless knowledge.

"How...how..." Maura's voice cracked with raw emotion. How could God take away the only stable thing...no, being in her life? It wasn't fair. She had no friends, no family. She had no love interests, and not because she didn't get proposals, but because God had so _generously _blessed her with the inability to lie or to stop herself from diagnosing the men she dated.

Using the strength she had left, the strawberry blonde pulled herself up to her feet when a knock came at the door. Just a knock, but it was enough to snap the Healer back to reality and compose herself.

"Milady?" hesitantly sounded from beyong the door.

"O-one tick, I just need to ah...freshen up." Maura blinked back tears that still wanted to stain her face.

Opening the door, Maura warmly greeted the familiar servant, "Afternoon, Elaine."

Elaine took a few moments to survey what the loss had caused. Alot. She noticed first that Maura wore no powder. It was hard to notice if you haven't lived with the Isles for more than five years because Maura looked perfect both with the powder and without. In fact, Elaine knew the woman sometimes chose not to put it in. And why should she when it made no difference in her regal beauty? The other details she noticed about Maura were small, but were still evident.

"Good afternoon, Milady. I was sent up here to fetch you. Seems the sir, erm...Caretaker, from the cemetery is here. He wants to talk with you about _her _ceremony's details," Elaine paused to let Maura recover from her surprise. The Caretaker wasn't due to visit until tomorrow. "He apologizes for the unexpected, and early visit but something has come up in the business."

"Tell him I shall be down in two ticks. I must dress myself appropriately for I did not imagine anyone coming to my home this day."

"Of course, Milady." With that, Elaine scampered off in a mess of green skirts. The woman over-dressed herself occasionally.

Maura frantically searched through her drawers for her gown. It was blood-red and it accented the color of her skin plus her overall figure nicely. The Caretaker was a fair man who Maura had met plenty of times when dealing with her patients that weren't able to overcome the illness that had fell upon them. He had expressed an interest in her, but she had always been too preoccupied with work. The ability to fall back on Clodelia was reassuring, but now she had to think about the future. She needed a man in her life. She was far past the legal age to marry.

"Healer," greeted the Caretaker. Maura suddenly stopped in her tracks. This was not the man she knew as the Caretaker. When the man knitted his eyebrows at her response, he snapped his fingers, "Oh yes. The other Caretaker unfortunately came down with the flu and couldn't quite make it through. That's why I'm here."

"I see." It was the only reply she could muster up. Maura knew straight away that she found this man to be equally, if not more attractive than the last Caretaker. He had an olive complexion with mischievous brown eyes that made you think he knew more than he let on. Her body reacted to the luring aura he gave off with please, but she took a deep if not ragged breath and smiled at him.

"Oh! Apolgies. I forget I haven't introduced myself," the man leaned forward enough so he could extend his hand, "My name is Tommy. Tommy Rizzoli."

"Maura Isles," she said handing him her own hand.

He took it with a sly grin and kissed the back of it chastely (though it was clear he wanted to kiss more than just that area), "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Isles."

"Please, call me Maura," she heard herself saying in an expressive tone. When she flirted, she didn't really process what she was doing. It was supposed to be natural, so she let her mind and body think for themselves.

"Maura. You have a beautiful name. You may call me Tommy." He retracted his hand to his dislike. Then proceeded to business, "I was here for...oh one tick..."

"Clodelia's funeral?"

"Oh yes! And the details that follow with the ceremony given at the funeral. You were the only person listed. Does she not have family or...?"

Maura tilted her lips into a soft smile, "She has family, but I'm afraid they're still oversea. She was born in Africa."

"Right. First things first, shall we have white flowers or were there any other colors listed in the paper that you'd like to use instead?" Tommy couldn't help but staring into those hazel eyes. His attention wandered when she looked away to think, but they never strayed long. He was a Rizzoli, and although it seemed he was a sweet talker, there was some sort of morality that weighed down on his shoulders if he took things too far. Besides, the Healer was stunning. She was far prettier than anyone he had ever had the chance of getting to know. Tommy found himself wanting to do right.

"Let's have a seat by the mantle, and I can help answer your questions."

"Of course." They wandered over to the fire and sat down. Their conversation commenced, but it was not long before they had all the details settled.

"So, then we are done here?" Maura asked with slight diappointment. Tommy had been a spark of fun within the keep that she wasn't normally subjected to.

"'Fraid so. However, I'll need you to stop by by the cemetery home. You'll need to pick up the rest of her belongings that she had on her. That and maybe discuss some of the things mentioned in her will," Tommy ended, but just as Maura went to speak, he also added, "And I'd like to see you again. On a much casual term. Even if it's still over the deceased." His light humor created a sweet chuckle from the Healer. She nodded and they parted for the day. Bound to meet again later tomorrow.

Jane growled when she woke. The dark-haired woman had gotten no sleep thanks to her father and what he had hinted when she spoke to him the other day.

_"Your mother and me are not getting along good, that's all," He cut in when she continued to ask him what was wrong._

_ "W-what do you mean, Pop?" Her voice was uncertain. It made Frank Rizzoli even more nervous about where this was leading. _

_ Frank was a decent man or so he hoped. He had been with Angela for a good fourty years or so, raised three children with her, and helped out by running his own farming business. His job provided everything for the family. During the past few years though, Frank's love for Angela seemed to fade away while his intention to know younger women increased. Did that make him such a bad person?_

_ "I don't mean nothing. I'm just saying you ought to come around more. There's changes, and you better be ready for anything."_

Honestly, Jane pondered what he meant last. There was anxiety building up from the pit of her stomach. A gut feeling she often referred to it as. And that gut feeling made her sick with fear. She couldn't possibly believe that her father would do such a thing. They've been together for years, and they love eachother and-

_Knock. Knock._

Jane stood up quickly to cross over to her front door. Frost stood behind it with his hands in his pockets. Snowflakes must have melted his clothing, because he looked frankly drenched.

"Yeah, Frost?" she asked with curiosity. Today was her day off. Not only that, but she was pretty sure the boys could go on without her. Or use someone else to help out.

"Korsak's needing you to go down to the cemetery home. They need you to check out an old body from the cases of The Masked Murderer."

Jane stepped out of her home, and closed the door behind her. She tried ignoring the chill of the winter air that blew through her thin fabric. Her eyebrows went up to emphasize the seriousness of the conversation, "They found another body?"

"Yeah, it's not good. A young girl around fifteen. She was getting married next week when they found her dead this morning in her room. Korsak says it looks like his work."

"Alright. I'll go check with the Caretaker."

Jane rode Black Willow over to the cemetery home. She arrived after a bell, and hoped vainly the place was still open at such a late hour. To her surprise and gratitude, it was. She dismounted the stallion with ease; her hand ran itself through her thick locks before she knocked on the front door of the building. There came a jerking sound like a chair being pushed back. Footsteps made their way from one room to the next until the door opened.

She was about to greet the person, but stopped with a blink of her eyes.

"Evening Jane," Tommy said with a knowing grin. Of course his presence at the cemetery home had stumped her. She wasn't familiar with the idea of Tommy working, but more with him locked up.

"What are you doing here? Did you kill someone without a thought to your mind? Good heavens, who was unlucky?" Jane knew how to exaggerate.

"No one," Tommy assured her with a calm laugh. He gestured to his uniform that Jane now realized wasn't common wear for her little brother. "I'm the new Caretaker. Well, at least until they can find another one. Samuel passed away."

"Oh, that's too bad," Jane stated. Oblivious what to really say to that.

"Yeah. Anyways, I'm here with someone so is there something you need?"

"Actually yes there is." Jane then explained to Tommy what she had been sent to do. Tommy finally rubbed his eyes. There was no telling her to go away and that his visit from Miss Isles had turned into a pretty good date despite where they were. Her little brother sighed and gestured inside. Jane stepped over the threshold carefully. She wasn't very comfortable in the cemetery home. She never had to be there.

"My apologies, Maura, but my sister's stopped by for some business. Seems she needs to look over a frozen one," Tommy voiced when they reached the living room of the home.

Right when Jane and Maura's eyes met they stood frozen. A moment of complete silence passed before Tommy, unaware of the tension, introduced Maura, "This is Maura Isles. She's a Healer."

"I assumed she was," Jane cut in, trying to return to her spunky attitude and carefree ways. She gave Maura a gracious grin that dimpled her cheeks.

"We meet on such odd occasions," Maura likewise humored her with a flash of her pearly teeth. The fact that the bronze-skinned woman hadn't noticed the half-melted snowflakes in her hair made Maura happily content. She concerned herself with her hair during this season, and knew it wasn't in the best of shape at the moment considering she had an open-roofed carriage bring her here from Upper District. But seeing that Tommy's sister was comfortable enough to look past her own appearance, Maura hoped (and knew deep down) that she'd look past Maura's too.

Tommy glanced between the two with a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face, "You two know eachother or something?"

"Or something," Jane sarcastically quipped. Tommy just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and excused himself from the room for a moment to go look up the body Jane needed.

"Jane Rizzoli," the taller woman relayed as she held out her hand.

This time Maura hesitated. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do actually. The men held out their hands to kiss the back of the women's hands. Women usually treated eachother to a kiss on the cheek in greeting, yet here was this intriguing woman doing the opposite.

"Ah...nice to finally have met you." Maura held out her hand, palm faced down, unsure what else to do.

Jane twitched her lips with an amused gleam to her eyes. She reached for the Healer's hand and turned it sideways, then continued to wrap her fingers around it. Giving a small shake, she withdrew her hand leaving the delicate woman speechless. Maura wasn't speechless only because of the handshake that was unknown to her, but because of how rough Jane's calloused palms were compared to her own. They reminded her of a hard working man's.

Jane grinned more at Maura's response, "Same here, Miss Isles. Same here."


	3. Chapter 3: Speaking Without Words

"Maura," the Healer corrected Jane instantaneously with a flick of her hand. She made an effort to familiarize herself with the taller Rizzoli, but strangely it was harder than with Tommy.

"Maura?" asked Jane, unsure what that implied.

"My name, yes. It's Maura."

Jane fought a grin that still made its way to her lips, "You're name, hm? And what about your surname? That is not apart of your name?"

A cute facial expression made itself apparent on her unsuspecting victim, "Well...yes it is but I'd like to be called by my first name if you will." Jane only dipped her chin acceptingly.

Then the shorter woman took the liberty of stepping closer and reaching up to clasp her fingers around Jane's chin. Jane tensed immediately when she felt soft fingertips forcing her face to turn this way and that. A perfectly reasonable reaction considering Maura had done it out of nowhere with no hint to why, but It looked as if the strawberry blonde was studying her face for measels.

"May I help you with something, Healer?" To her own surprise, her voice was cool and calm instead of shaky like it usually got when she was in an uncomfortable position. Or when people touched her at all. She was probably the only exception within the Rizzoli family that did not care for any physical contact whatsoever.

"You could if you would relax. How much sleep have you been getting?"

"Not much, why so?"

Maura lingered her thumb on the distinct jawline for a small tick before she withdrew as if she'd been scolded by hot water. Both of them didn't know what had happened, but Maura was the first to brush it off, "Your pupils are dilated. It's a default effect when you're exposed to too much light over the coarse of when you're supposed to be dreaming. Sleep deprivation can be a dangerous thing."

"I'll keep that in mind, fair Healer." And she would, but there wasn't any way she could change it. Her parents' relationship worried her too much.

"And I'm back from the dead!" Tommy hollered through the doorway causing both women to jump a little. They turned their attention to the Caretaker as he rolled in a bed with a young girl's body neatly laid out on it. She had to be less than fourteen. A horror Jane had seen too many times since joining the law.

"She's so very young," Maura murmured to herself thoughtfully.

"He tricks them," Jane icily breathed through her clenched teeth, "Tricks them and does what he wishes with what's left of their beating souls. A true, heartless killer."

There stood a long pause after what Jane had said. The impact of her words didn't quite upset Maura, but instead made her furious. This vile man took these innocent girls and slaughtered them (by the looks of the dead body, that was an adequate description of his signature kill) only after pleasing himself when they were too weak to fight back. Too delicate, and too fragile to resist those hands...Maura shuddered, a movement that was not unnoticed by Jane.

"Yes, it's a nightmare come to life. Jane, how long will you need with her body?" Tommy asked curiously.

"Awhile. I'll be looking over each wound. And...there appears to be a sum of them."

"Very well. I'll just take Miss Isles back to Central District so she can reach her carriage driver and-"

"That's quite alright," Maura cut in with hope straining her voice. "I'd like to stay here for a bit longer if I may. To study the body too? I may be of help." She glanced aside to Jane who nodded, allowing her to remain in the cemetery home during the examination.

Tommy shifted his eyes, "But ah...I shall be locking up the cemetery home in a tick, Maura. And I can't just leave such a lady here all by herself. I'd love to uphold the honor of making sure you arrive home safely."

"But I will."

"I'll take her home once we're done here, little brother. You should rest your eyes for the night," his sister offered which only discouraged him more. Tommy checked with Maura one last time, but only to be shooed off with a polite smile. He groaned when he had made it out of earshot. Yes, his sister knew how to steal his date without him realizing it half way through. He knew she didn't mean to, after all she was into men and had no ill intention, but Tommy couldn't help but feeling frustrated when he rode off down the path on his horse. Alone.

Maura Isles had yet to be enlightened. Jane stole a glimpse at her when she pulled out shards of wood from the corpse. The dark-haired woman quickly reached over to grab her hand, "No, we don't touch the evidence."

"But you know who it is already. And you need to study the body more closely if you intend on understanding the current murders."

"You know about the murder?" Jane squinted her eyes defensively. Her grip around Maura's wrist tightening on its own.

Hazel eyes caught her own brown specs with an inquisitive, yet fierce shimmer in them. They knew how to speak without saying a word. The sudden flashback to Jane's childhood crush, Dean, sounded in her head.

_"Can't help much to pick up a stranger when the speak to you without saying a thing." _Or something to that effect.

Right now Maura Isles was speaking, and Jane wanted to understand what she was saying. "Do you?"

"I...um..." Maura trailed off. Was she supposed to not know about the recent murder? Was it meant to be a secret? She admitted that Truman always found out from an ally of his in the law what was going on in the system. Did that mean she was in trouble? Was Truman if she was forced to reveal who told her?

"You know." Jane turned from Maura and stared down at the body. Maura nodded-it wasn't necessary but she still acknowledged the other woman's words.

"How?" When Maura didn't answer at first, Jane suspected she didn't catch on, "How do you know about the murder? A few Knights only know about it, and the men I work with."

"Are they Knights? The men you work with?"

"No, and you're avoiding my question."

The strawberry blonde had to admit-Jane was smart. She was observant. Those very traits could get her anywhere in life. Shifting her weight to her right hip, Maura merely suppressed the urge to continue with her pointless questions that inevitably would anger the stronger being.

"I've an informat. He has a friend within the King's army. A law man, such as yourself." Maura was utterly curious when Jane released the breath she had been holding. Maura placed a hand upon the taller woman's arm and assured her softly, "He does not tell anyone else besides the man I know. And Truman would never tell anyone besides me."

Thankfully, Maura didn't realize the truth behind holding her own breath. Jane was replaying Maura's last sentence in her head in an effort to understand what read between the lines. _A law man, such as yourself. _What did that say about Rizzoli? Was she considered a man in this woman's eyes only because of how she dressed and how she acted? Was this the thought of every high class lady when Jane offered an insight to her life? It felt stupid for concerning herself over something so small, but she couldn't distract herself from her self-conscious thoughts.

"Jane-" Maura breathed her name. It sent air that felt like ice down her back. It rose the very hairs on her neck.

"It's alright. I'm not thinking about that. Look, what's this here?" Jane randomly pointed to a bulge in the corpse's left arm.

Turning her attention from Jane, Maura studied the left arm with an aura of business seeping from her pores. Jane caught on and stood back to give the Healer her space. After what could very well be a bell, Jane lifted her eyes in exasperation. She had been watching Maura work with unsubtle interest at all of the facial expressions that crossed the Healer's face, but when Maura stood where her back faced Jane-all hope was lost.

"Maura, it's past eleven late," Jane tried.

"Judging by the time I arrived, a few bells in between where I spoke with Tommy, the bell it took to become acquainted with you, and when I began...it's most certainly not eleven late."

"Fine. But it is thirty ticks past ten late."

"Probably so," Maura conceded breezily.

This woman ceased to humor Jane. "Maura!"

Stealing a peek at the other woman, the blonde sighed, "Yes, Jane Rizzoli?" It only added to Jane's amusement. To the point she couldn't keep a thick, richly entwined chuckle from exploding out of her chest. Maura breathed in sharply-that laugh was so free, so deep it created a tingle to travel down every bone in her body. And there were 206 bones in the average human's body.

"Are you laughing at me?" Maura found enough courage to prompt the still laughing woman.

"N-no! No. Just amused," Jane clarified through fits of laughter. She expressed her reassurance with the gesture of her hands.

"By me. You're amused by me? Really?" Maura cocked her head to the left. An underlying message shone through her words that Jane snatched mentally.

"You've never amused someone?"

'Yes and no. People laugh at me, but I've never had someone amused." Pensively returning to her work, Maura lifted up the left arm finally. "She was treated to by someone. There's tissue still healing beneath the third layer of skin. Stitches were needed."

"That's something!" Jane hopped up from the chair she had been sitting on. She walked over by Maura's side, "That's good because the wound must've been somewhat fresh when she died. I mean, she's the latest corpse besides the recent one we're retrieving. If it's still healing then it's possible that-"

"Jane," Maura interrupted the loyal individual of the law.

"Yes?"

"There's more."

Now placing a sharp tool lended by the cemetery over the corpse's left arm, Maura slit a deep gash. Jane almost went into a frenzy, but stopped completely when the Healer dug her fingers into the arm and brought out a small bag tied with a thin ribbon. A bag that had been inside the girl's body since her death weeks ago.

"What in the seven hells is that?" Jane reached for the bag but before she could come in contact with the material, Maura pulled it away.

"I'll tell you if you'll be patient."

"You are one daring woman, Maura Isles," Jane warned her, but obliged nonetheless.

Opening the bag carefully with her fingers, Maura peered in then opened the bag further to shake the evidence out onto the table. Jane looked over Maura's shoulder while keeping her distance from what had been inside the bag. Maura could smell the earth and what seemed like rain (probably due to the snowflakes and snow) on Jane's person. The smell was warm and inviting; so much that the smaller woman didn't realize she had begun to lean against Jane's front.

Jane was too focused on the evidence to push Maura away, "What is that? Is that- it is! That's fingernails!"

"Toenails," Maura corrected her. A habit Jane guessed she'd have to get used to if she continued to see the Upper District lady. "You can tell by the nail plate. It's wider."

"Of course! I study the widths of toenails compared to fingernails all my evenings," Jane sarcastically countered which caused Maura to straighten from her lazy position against the italian. Jane regretted her words when Maura stole the warmth back.

"Through my expertise, they're children's toenails. The ages ranging from nine to fifteen."

"Damned bastard," Jane growled and stomped away with steam blowing from her ears. She snatched her cloak from the chair in one quick, fluid movement of her arm. Maura remained by the table with the corpse. Her eyes lowered to the girl's for a tick. Just to look away the next.

"Are we leaving now?"

"Yes, we're leaving." The dark-haired woman was too busy clasping her cloak together by the hollow of her throat to notice Maura was gazing at her. "Just leave the body where it is. Tommy'll see to her at the break of dawn."

"I'm sorry," Maura suddenly blurted which washed away the dense air.

"For?" asked Jane, desperately ignoring the growing want to find hazel eyes with her's.

"I'm not amusing you any longer. I've only upset you."

This caused for immediate action. The depression evident in Maura's voice frankly scared her. Jane crossed the rooms in two strides until she stood before Maura, peering down at that quizzical face meaningfully. There's been two moments in Jane's life she had done this, and Jane was hesitant to allow it again. But the delicate soul was reaching out to her, and plucking at her heart's strings. Not in any way love-based, but...something else. At least that's what Jane told herself when she pulled the blonde into her arms in a tight embrace.

Maura inhaled slowly; a hug wasn't what she had been expecting from the antisocial woman. Instead of trying to figure it out, Maura slipped her arms around Jane's lean figure and interlaced her fingers to keep the individual securely next to her body. Stable. God, she was so...stable. That's when Maura felt tears streaming down her face. It was a mute cry of gratitude.

"Creator's sake, Maura, you're crying. My apologies if I squeezed too tight," Jane rambled when she had pulled away.

"No," Maura voiced with a heart-breaking smile, "Thank you." Her ragged breathing subsided when Jane rubbed her forearm with a gentle tease of her hand.

"Well if you're thanking me why are you crying? You're...too pretty to be crying. Come on, I'll get you a handkerchief-"

Had she just been complimented? She was pretty in Jane's eyes? "No, I'm fine. Thank you, but your assistance isn't needed...a hug might do though."

"That's still my assistance," Jane lightly joked but again brought Maura to her chest. "Gods, what's wrong? You're drenching my cloak."

"Oh...I apologize. We can stop."

"No, no. I'm just concerned what has you so upset? A lady such as yourself should have no worry in the world."

Maura collapsed into Jane's embrace. She had been hiding from reality within this sanctuary where Tommy and Jane Rizzoli lived. The Healer let out a mournful sob, gripping Jane's arms too hard that Jane knew she'd have fingernail marks in the morning. The bronze-skinned woman decided not to press and held Maura despite the flush spreading up her chest, neck, and eventually landing upon her cheeks.

Jane took a glance around. Maura was here for something other than Tommy. Realization dawned on her, "Someone's died."

"My housewife. She was...my mother in some aspects."

They seperated again to smile at eachother. Their smiles meant everything to eachother, though they didn't know the other felt the same. Maura, because she had lost Clodelia, and Jane made her feel like she could actually move on. And Jane, because Maura tore her away from the possibility that her parents might not be together for long...and the images. Those images she feared would come true once more; _his_ face haunting her daily.

"My apologies. May peace come to her in the afterlife."

"Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me," Maura sniffled. She wiped away the threatening tears from her eyes then lowered the back of her hands to wipe away the ones that had already fallen.

"Come on, return you home."

The ride to the Upper District was met in silence. Maura was sitting in front of Jane on Black Willow, with Jane's reaching around her to hold the reigns. It was needed; the Healer had never rode upon a horse with no saddle. She had only rode a horse once even with the contraption. Carriages were more familiar to her. Stars were scintillating in the midnight sky causing the snow to gleam with luminosity. Wispy fog settled on the banks they passed, seeping out onto the floor like an abundance of cigar smoke. Somewhere beyond the rolling hills of lush green grass grew the calls of the coyotes. It was a night to behold.

"Did you know that coyotes can reach up to forty miles per bell when running?" Maura inquired to start a conversation as they finally reached the bend into the Upper District. She had never returned to the area through the back roads, but was glad she got to experience the serene qualities this path had to offer.

"Does your brain ever hurt with all this useless information?" Jane envisioned what the other woman had said.

"No?"

Jane smiled from behind her, "Well, to answer your question...No. I did not know."

"Most don't," Maura replied understandingly.

"Maura?"

"Yes, Jane?" Her heart quickened to the speed of light when Jane leaned closer against her back. The press of the taller woman's chest made it increasingly difficult to breathe at a normal rate. She drew in a ragged breath when Jane rested a strong chin on her right shoulder. Why was she acting so absurd? They were two women who happened to be getting along pretty well, so why did Maura react to Jane's touch the way she would with a lover instead of a friend? It made no sense. She used the excuse that she was just tired.

"We are here. Where's your home?" Maura was too out of it so she gestured down a nearby road which Jane led her horse down. "And which one is your's?"

"The beige colored one with the maroon trimmings," Maura supplied unhelpfully.

"I am unsure what those colors are. And each building appears to be pretty similar."

"It is the third one down," the blonde tried again.

"Much better instructions, Miss Isles."

When they rode up into the driveway of the manor, Jane hopped down from Black Willow first so she could extend a hand for Maura. Taking the hand, Maura slid from the horse as gracefully as she could with the sizeable gown. Jane's pants and blouse was probably the best outfit for a ride on a stallion. Not to mention her boots when compared to Maura's slippers that gained no footing.

"Well, Maura, it has been a downright pleasure to have met you yet again," Jane bent her torso in a civil bow.

"Likewise, Jane Rizzoli," Maura said through a gentle curtsy. They had to display courtesy when in the Upper District. It was expected from the higher class folk.

"Mayhaps we'll meet again."

"I only hope," Maura murmured more to herself than aloud. Jane still heard it, but pretended she hadn't.

Mounting Black Willow anew, Jane tipped her hat like a gentleman and sped off down the path they had arrived from-leaving Maura to the impassive welcome of her servants. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. The period of dark expanse outside of her window remained vulnerable to Maura's consistent thoughts on it all. Her mumbling dying down to steady breaths as she dreamed when the sun rose. Jane told herself she'd forget Maura Isles by tomorrow and go back to how everything was, but when she laid down in bed...she could almost picture the delicate lady resting beside her with content still written across that heart-shaped face. The moment she realized what she had imagined, Jane groaned and tossed over to fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Meeting Her Family

The sound of hooves made their way into Maura's head as she sat upon the rocking chair centered on the front porch; trudging through much thinner snow, the steeds rounded the corner of her home. The Healer grew silent with awe. King Quince was her guest today, and he had made an enlightening arrival with his Knights trailing behind.

"Your Highness," Maura greeted while gathering the hem of her maroon gown and kirtle, ignoring the annoyance of her fur-lined sleeves that sometimes got in the way, to kneel on hard wood as a sign of deep respect for the ginger man. She hoped in vain that the square neckline of her bodice proved high enough to be modest. At times she forgot her measurements and gave the wrong one to a clothier.

"Please, rise. I am but a guest here; your home may be welcoming and respectful, but I shall have no more of treating myself as that of a King. Instead treat me as that of a close friend, Miss Isles." Such words spoken with authority that Maura could only bow her head in acceptance.

King Quince was a fairly stocky man whose owl-shaped eyes returned the color of the honey. He stood no more than an inch above the Healer, but his eyes could be even and he'd see far past her. Maura knew from the instant she closed in the distance between them that he was a certified 'dreamer' as the townsfolk liked to call it. A man whose mind and thoughts strayed from importance or relevant occasions. A man who somehow reminded her of a certain Rizzoli woman.

"I must admit, My King, that I did not know of your stay here at the manor. Might you be needing to speak over something? What has brought me the honor of your presence?"

"Your mother, my fare Healer," King Quince answered her with a fun-loving smile. "I've asked her permission to paint me my newest addition to the Royal Gallery. A landscape of the Upper District. I trust she is inside?"

Yes, Constance had come back this morning. Maura assumed she was back to stay, but now knowing the reason she had left so early from Paris. It was evident her mother would again be gone by sunset after handing over her latest masterpiece. The strawberry-blonde gestured to the front door with a wave of her hand.

"She'll be expecting you."

"My gratitude." And off went the King into their mansion.

The delicate woman rested against a pole that held up the front porch's roof. She sighed to herself with a measurable scan over the Knights who, one by one, entered her home too. A few remained on their steeds; their faces as impassive as they could manage. Maura pushed herself from the pole and descended the porch steps until she stood not too far from a thick, muscular Knight with a balding head of curly, brown hair.

"May I ask of your assistance, honorable Knight?"

His eyes slowly tore themselves away from the direction he stared only to land upon Maura. A subtle smile to his thick lips, "How may I serve?"

"I suspect Our King will enjoy his stay far longer than it takes for one to ride into Lower District on horse. I've been meaning to use my carriage to ride down, but there are so many good people in Central District that it takes bells to get through. With a horse, it should only take one. I was hoping that you or…" Maura trailed her soft voice to vaguely include the other Knights, "One of your fellows to help me get there at a reasonable time. If not, I greatly understand."

Reaching up to rub his nape, the Knight considered her words responsibly. He finally acknowledged her request with a firm nod of his head, "Of course, milady. I shall take you myself." The Knight draped both of his feet on one side of the saddle then leaned forward to grab Maura's waist. "My name is Ernest. You may call me Ernie." And with that he hoisted her up and onto the back of his horse.

"Maura," she introduced herself with equal pleasantness.

The ride to Lower District held conversations of family and friends; work and teaching; but ended with a lighter discussion of hope for spring to come early this year. All in all, Maura was rightly glad to have met the single parent whose own son now trained to become a Captain of Fleet 31. A famous fleet known for carrying King Quince's treasures across sea. When the attention shifted to Maura, she admitted that she was meeting a new found friend of her's in Lower District.

"You know Jane Rizzoli?" Ernest abruptly inquired.

"To an extent, I suppose."

"Did you have knowledge of how King Quince favors her, or that she is to be instated as a Knight soon? The first female Knight in existence." He spoke of her as if she were his hero.

"No," Maura blinked her eyes in surprise and wonderment, "I did not. Does she know?"

"Not that I've heard. King Quince plans on asking her in a week."

"Well that's amazing that she's worked hard enough to be instated. If any woman deserves to be a Knight-it's Jane." And for once Maura knew that's exactly what she meant.

"Aye, she's a good one. Stubborn one, but a good one nevertheless." They both agreed with an innocent cascade of laughter.

Finally making it into Lower District, Ernest turned onto a muddy path that seemed to end with a cottage. Since the Knight didn't know where Jane lived, he reasoned with Maura that maybe her parents could be of assistance from here out. The Healer thanked him before he retreated into the backdrop of the valleys and stepped nervously to the front door of the Rizzoli home.

She rapt her knuckles against the heavy, wooden door twice before a welcoming voice asked, "Door's open, so come on in?"

Maura gulped down a lump in her throat. Was she supposed to just step foot in the home? Did the owner understand that she was a stranger to them as of yet? The blonde hesitantly pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold to be greeted with an empty hallway. Maura knit her eyebrows; she walked down the hall until she found the woman who had called out earlier.

"Janie, are you hurt or something? Your walking sounds actually feminine," Angela teased from behind the counter in the kitchen. With a gradual swivel of her eyes to the doorframe, she paused.

"You're not Janie…"

"No," Maura confirmed the woman's words with a gentle shake of her head, "My name's Maura Isles. I was ah…looking for Jane Rizzoli and…a Knight directed me here. He assumed you knew where she'd be staying because he didn't."

Angela came forward with a leap of pride and hugged Maura as if she knew the medical woman since birth, "Oh dear, my apologies. I guess I didn't expect visitors. None for Jane at the very least! That girl is so frustrating when it comes to making such proper friends." Maura wasn't sure if it was a compliment or if Angela just spoke the truth.

"Understandable," Maura offered as she embraced the somewhat thicker woman less enthusiastically. Still, she had to admit that it was a nice gesture.

"I'm Angela, Jane's mother. You probably know that by now though!" The Italian mother went over to slicing tomatoes for lunch.

"Lovely to meet you, Angela. If you could tell me where Jane lives that-"

"But I can't," Angela replied quickly with irritation in her voice that proved not Maura's fault when the other woman followed with, "Jane doesn't let me know! She doesn't want me seeing her all the time. I swear that girl."

Rounding her lips, Maura could only say, "Oh."

"Come! She's supposed to head over here at three late, and that's only a bell and a half away. You can stay until she arrives. Help me with cooking if you'd like. Do you cook?" Already Angela smiled at Maura with a genuine sense of warmth. Maura quite liked the look though she was unused to it when coming from a mother.

"Yes, my housewife taught me when I was younger. You're making…spaghetti?"

"Just that, dear! Now start boiling water for the noodles!"

When Jane decided to leave the bandit tied up in Central Square for everyone to poke fun at, she headed to her parents' cottage once more. It was the first time after her father's frightful conversation, but she wasn't going to allow herself to be upset or afraid. At least not on the outside. The last thing she needed was Angela practically begging her to explain why her voice was higher pitched than normal; it was a nervous habit. Jane hopped from her horse lithely and landed on the ground. Today she wore a v-neck, brown doublet that tied criss-crossed in the front. Underneath was a common, billowy white blouse that shared only the indent between her collarbones. Her black pants, held up by a black leather belt, stopped just below the knee, but her skin from there was covered with a white hose and leather scarpine shoes. Her always handy coal-black cloak was draped across Black Willow's back for the meantime. It was an outfit Angela hadn't favored, but hadn't disowned.

Stepping through the door of the home, Jane swore she could hear her own grin in her voice, "Ma, I just got back from a pub brawl. I've got a few bruises and scars on me, so cover your eyes."

An irritated sigh responded to her teasing. But Jane completely faltered when a short, sweet laughter mixed with Angela's words of exasperation in the kitchen. The younger Rizzoli nearly jogged towards the kitchen doorway and stopped when she saw who had shared the cooking with her mother.

"Jane," Maura greeted her with a lax smile.

"M-maura, what are you doing here?" An embarrassed look of confusement swept across Jane's face. She swiftly hid it under a casual grin.

Maura still saw it though. "I came by to see you, but I didn't know where you lived. A Knight dropped me off here with your mother. Angela said I could stay and help prepare lunch with her because you'd be by soon."

"Oh. Well why didn't you just come to my place?"

A small smirk shone through the shorter woman's words, "It would seem no one knows where you live, Jane Rizzoli. A mystery I myself cannot know unless someone told me."

"Oh," Jane repeated sheepishly. She gradually calmed down under Maura's gaze and walked around the counter to look over the spaghetti. "Mm, smells delicious, Ma."

"Don't thank me, Janie. Maura here is a natural!" Angela yelled from outside as she went to find her husband. He had been working in the fields for bells now.

"You know medicine, propriety, and cooking. I must say, Miss Isles, you are quite the catch," Jane voiced while playfully smiling over at Maura. She added to tease harmlessly, "Where are your suitors?"

"Most of them I turn down. Though you'll find they live in Upper District. There's Kennedy Richardson who lives on the outskirts of Central District though. He's a long upper torso, so…you know what that means," Maura hinted lightheartedly which caused Jane to choke on a bite of spaghetti she had forked out of the general bowl.

"Maura!" Jane felt herself dying of laughter that rolled off of her in waves of delight.

The Healer felt as if the laughter itself were rich cream she was soaking in. Letting Jane settle down, the blonde merely changed the subject, "Why is it that you haven't told anyone where you live?"

It took a few moments for the dark-haired woman to answer, "I don't know. I like to keep to myself. I don't want anyone finding out I'm out there unless they're there for business."

"So…" Maura sought to choose her words as carefully as she could without disappointment and hope filtering through, "Friends cannot know where you live?"

Jane obviously knew what the shorter woman meant, "After we have lunch, I'll show you where I live. As long as you promise not to tell my Ma."

"Jane, I can't lie…"

Taken back by the sincerity in the Healer's words, Jane prompted Maura while dumbfounded, "What do you mean you can't lie?"

"I hyperventilate and stutter. Perspire and all else. I'm terrible at lying and I frankly hate doing it!" Maura whined with a helpless look on her face. Jane took a good long pause to study that expression before throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. Her Ma was bound to find out anyhow.

The Rizzolis and newcomer Isles settled around the kitchen table to eat for lunch. Frank asked Maura about her occupation, which helped ease the stress off of Jane for now. When Frankie and Tommy joined them not too long after the table was set, they were curious why Maura stopped by but likewise interested in what she had to offer to the home-a fresh conversation. At one point, Jane noticed Tommy lean close to Maura's ear and whisper something with a sly grin. Maura widened her eyes momentarily before smiling to herself. She turned her head to gaze into Tommy's eyes before dismissing his comment, and returning to finishing her meal.

Jane sat directly across Maura, so her and Tommy's little incident was noticeable. For some unknown reason, Jane felt a bit angry that Tommy would flirt so openly with her new friend. Or was it jealousy?

"So Maura," Jane finally heard herself saying, "What Knight brought you over?"

"Ernest, one of King Quince's elite."

"Ooh," Angela cooed, "You've got an elite Knight doing your bidding? Are you two together?"

Jane rolled her eyes with a scrunched nose, "Vomit." She had muttered it, but Maura heard and ceased to smile when she told Angela they weren't.

"Do you know Ernest, Jane?"

"Yes, Maura, I do. He's a little soft around the edges, but a decent Knight."

"He spoke of you highly," Maura admittedly contributed when Jane seemed done with the conversation.

"Yeah? Well he isn't so bad after all." Jane grinned when Frankie nudged her with his shoulder.

"Come on, Jane, stop being so conceited," Frankie hummed as a tease.

They shared a laugh over that, but Jane played herself unamused. Jane returned her hobby of observing Maura out of the corner of her eyes. The Healer pretended she did not notice the stare, but basked in the attention secretly. To have such the strangely appealing Rizzoli watching her like that sent her nerves on end. After the family got done eating, each one discarded their plates in the sink and headed outside for awhile to enjoy the sun. It would appear the spring was definitely coming early.

"Maura?" Jane whispered beside her when the others gave them enough distance to have a private conversation.

"Yes?"

"I'm going home now. Let's sneak out before they can get us to play a game of Hobgoblin."

"Hob-?"

Before the Healer had time to question the odd sounding game, Jane chuckled, "Just come on. I'm rescuing you. Trust me." Maura's honest gaze at Jane reassured her that the Healer in fact trusted the criminal catching individual.

They had slipped off with quick goodbyes to everyone, and rode on Black Willow down towards Harlin Creek. A creek that divided Lower District from Jessle Forest; also traveling through the Outer Land valleys where none of Boston had expanded yet. Jane led them down a forest path when they proceeded farther out into the western expanse of trees and thick, tall grass. Maura became uneasy with the calls of coyotes and other various animals met her ears once more, but closer.

"I wouldn't let them harm you," came the husky voice from ahead.

"Human beings are at the top of the food chain because of their ability to adapt and to create weapons that would take down larger, stronger, or faster beasts. We have weapons, or at least you do. So…"

"I can always kill them with my sword, or bow and arrow?"

"Yes, in a matter of speaking."

"Do you know how to use either weapon?"

"I took archery as a child, but I've never handled a sword. I never planned on it."

"I'll teach you one of these days," Jane offered with a comfortable grin in Maura's direction. She finally stopped near a cottage that almost appeared to be abandoned except for the path that had been made to find it. "And we're home." The words had slipped out before Jane recognized how it sounded. "Well here's where I live."

"It's so far out, and covered in plants…"

"Needs a little work," Jane agreed as she slid from Black Willow who shook her mane freely.

"It's still beautiful to me," Maura assured Jane when she too slid down with the help of Jane's arm for stability.


	5. Chapter 5: Secrets and Adventures

**Quick thanks to everyone who has reviewed and favorited. I'm glad I can write something that you all enjoy. I've had a bit of a writer's block, but it's bound to pass. This is just a transitional chapter. Next will feature Christmas and how the two new friends will have their holiday spent! Anyways, if there's anything you'd like to be featured in the story or have anything you'd like to see happen in the coming chapters please let me know! There will be sex chapters, but of course not at the beginning of their friendship sooo we'll see ;) Please leave reviews and tell me what ya think. Thanks again!**

The decorations that adorned Jane's home reminded Maura of Boston, but also faraway lands she had once read about with Clodelia. There stood a cabinet of silver maple wood, the same trees resting outside of the cottage, but painted along the edges were depictions from a fairytale. Maura remembered the name, _The Fellow Bard_. A short story about a mockingbird personified to explain the difference between love and attraction. Maura traced the mockingbird stretching across the stained wood with her fingertip; a smile once lost found its way back to her lips. Yes, she would be able to move on without Clodelia. She had the good memories to live off of. Plus her new friend.

Further into Jane's living room area, Maura discovered the Rizzoli woman had a dog. Not just any dog, but one that proceeded to jump against her legs begging to be picked up by the mere stranger. The Healer laughed softly as she bent to level her eyes with the dog's. She pet the puppy, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Jane quickly hide a book in a drawer behind the sofa.

"What is her name?"

Turning around with a lack of grace, Jane told Maura, "Jo Freyday. I got her just a year back when I was out on a chase for a murderer. Jo here followed along, and I couldn't get rid of her since then."

"She's adorable, Jane. And quite enthusiastic to see you back home. With a guest." Maura straightened from her position. A minute must have went by before they seemingly started to speak again at the same time. Both paused with a grin threatening to break across their faces.

Jane raised her hand just a little to speak first, "Since you are my guest, and so rare that I have one, might I be able to offer you anything? A drink or something to eat, perhaps?" The taller woman fidgeted with her hands signaling just how rare it was for someone to be in the home.

Maura felt special, "Some water would be nice."

"Very well, just make yourself comfortable. My home is your's." Again the dark-haired paused after hearing what she had just said aloud. Jane ceased to understand how to act around guests, but decided not to correct herself every time she felt like she was doing something wrong or odd.

Meanwhile, while Jane went to fetch a water jack, Maura let her curiosity get the best of her. She snuck over to the drawer she had seen Jane hide the book inside. Knowing she probably shouldn't and it was spying on Jane's personal belongings, Maura carefully took the large book from the desk. For the longest moment Maura just brushed her palm over the cover; the title's lettering the only bumps along the surface.

"Poetry and Song: The Art of Composition," Maura read before she opened the book to flip through the pages.

What met her eyes frankly shocked the blonde woman. The Rizzoli was so…passionate when it came to the written word. Maura had assumed Jane would be the type to find such a hobby distasteful, but instead she spoke volumes even in small haikus. There was a poem about needing to feel sinful in order to be forgiven that sparked the smaller female's interest. Her hazel eyes practically glued themselves to the seventeenth page.

And that was how Jane found her when the other woman walked back into the living room. At first, Jane let the silence cover her presence. She gripped the water jack tighter, feeling as if someone…no Maura had just cut her open and found her weakness. But somehow the tension faded when a smile crossed her vision.

Maura continued to smile to herself in utter joy when Jane broke through her attention with that raspy voice of her's, "I guess I'll have to hide that better next time." The sudden words sent Maura flying in the air out of surprise and guilty pleasure.

"O-oh Jane I…I'm so sorry," Maura swiftly returned the book to the drawer. Her face wore a conflicted expression; she was apologizing, but she would have easily done it again if given the chance to take it back. The depths of Jane's mind was exhilarating to explore. Maura wanted more, but couldn't bring herself to ask.

Licking her dry lips, Jane nodded, "It's fine. I should have known a smart woman such as yourself would do her research. If it were me, I'd do just the same."

Maura almost replied, but froze when she realized Jane was avoiding bringing up the topic of her poetry. The strawberry blonde came forward to meet Jane halfway. She reached out to gather the water jack from Jane's hand; her fingers brushing against Jane's and lingering when neither of them pulled away immediately.

"You have talent," was all the Healer could end up saying.

"I'd prefer my talent to be kept secret. Private."

"I won't tell a soul," Maura promised.

They meandered over to the sofa where Jane plopped down. Maura took her seat right beside Jane despite the amount of room she had. Hesitantly, the delicate woman searched for those sunken dark brown eyes with her own hazel specs. If only she could hear Jane use her husky voice whisper such poetry-she'd be fulfilled. Constance had tried her hand at written word a few years back. It left Maura as her critic, a bluntly truthful one who assured her adoptive mother that painting was her art subject.

"Before…" Jane began, "I used to only write songs. The kind children would dance to at the school yard or replay in their heads over the coarse of day. I'd only start with a few words in mind then expand on them with details and music. But when I grew to be fifteen, I began writing poetry like that because um…"

Leaning far too much, Maura nearly rested her hands on Jane's thigh, "You don't have to explain. It's personal…I understand, Jane." Her current body language definitely countered her reassurance.

"No. It's alright. When I was fifteen I was asked for marriage. My childhood friend, Gabriel Dean, always swore he'd marry me someday. I suppose he thought mid-summer was perfect."

An uncomfortable tone filtered through Jane's voice even as she breathed. As awkward as it would end, she fought to throw the weight off her shoulders by confiding in her new found friend.

"I of course said yes, but I was young still. At least in my mind I was. I knew fourteen was legal age, but I stood only a year older and…marriage was far past my goals. Dean was a hopeless romantic. He was my closest friend. I thought in vain that my feelings for him would overcome my fear. It was a week before the wedding when we had our first argument. Dean threw out that maybe we weren't meant to be together as husband and wife…and I knew he said it out of spite but I was so quick to snatch my chance at escape…" Jane swallowed. "He knew right away I didn't want to marry him. Yet? Maybe never. We parted on ill terms which affected me greatly. I know it affected him because I haven't seen him since the night our wedding was to be held. The last image of him I have was of him drunk and wobbling down the streets of Central District."

"You can't blame yourself," came the words out of nowhere that both of them was unsure who had said it. Maura realized the voice was indeed her's, so she continued, "You weren't ready for marriage. The two of you may have been friends, but you may have not felt love. When falling in love, different areas in the brain releases euphoria that influences a number of chemical substances. Among others, such as dopamine, oxytocin (known as the love hormone), adrenaline, and vasopressin (a hormone of possessiveness). Brain activity in a region called subcortial dopaminergic system becomes active; this triggers the reaction to find common interests. There's even a gland pheromone in the body that affects sexual frustration. Neurotransmitters speeding up hormonal processes. Countless triggers in your body that will respond to another being if in fact you 'loved' them. You must've not felt them, because you weren't instantly attracted to Dean or pleased when he asked to marry you. You didn't love him."

Jane lifted her eyebrows at Maura's words; the shorter woman was factual when it came to concepts such as love it seemed. Jane inwardly wondered if that was what Maura really thought love was all about-hormones and neuro…something. Suddenly Jane pleaded to change the subject so she nudged Maura with a faint grin, "And what about you? Any almost-got-married-to-my-best-friend stories?"

"No."

This time Jane rephrased her words with an inquisitive hum, "Ever had a close friend?"

Again Maura repeated, "No."

"Are you human?" Jane checked with amusement shining through. When Maura replied 'yes' the darker skinned woman bobbed her head in acceptance. She rose to her full length off of the couch and held out her hand for Maura to take, "Come. I want to show you something, said human."

"What?" The Healer couldn't help but asking as she lightly placed her hand on top of Jane's, likewise pulling herself to her feet. She received no answer as they began to walk.

Winter held onto the earth with a hopeful grip. Christmas would be coming around the corner soon, and everyone would be preparing for multiple celebrations along with the feasts brought at dinner time. Children could be heard in the far distance, coming from Lower District, as the two females took a step outside onto the back porch. The winter forest was evident behind the cottage, even more than in the front. Hanging vines scattered with snowflakes draped across the branches surrounding the small home; occasionally a bluebird swooped beneath the shade of each tree's limb leaving a trail of glistening snow in the air. Calls of the wild surrounded them, but long enough to soothe their muscles at play. Around the bend of bushes laid a rather dainty lake. Its still waters were frozen from the top-twelve inches deep of ice. Yes, Jane lived with the essence of nature. Maura instantly wished she did too.

"My mother would go mad if she knew such a place existed beneath her nose," Maura humored Jane as they crossed over the muddy ground to gain a safe distance beside the lake.

"Would she paint the landscape?"

"Yes…but even she couldn't capture its beauty within her artwork. It's truly magnificent, Jane. That you live here. You wake up here. I'm so accustomed to furnished dwellings, and highly polished marble pillars outside my door. To have the forest and all its creations…you're quite blessed."

"Not really," Jane tilted her shoulders with a good shrug. She cleared a spot near the edge of the ice, and sat down. Maura bit her bottom lip unsurely. Her terribly expensive bliaut would be ruined if she allowed herself to dirty it.

"Jane?" Maura felt self-conscious when those brown eyes lifted up. So she just gestured to her outfit.

"Oh!" The dark-haired woman hopped to her feet and tugged off her cloak. With a grand gesture, she layered the ground with it.

"Oh no, Jane. Not your cloak…"

"No, no. It's fine. I can always wash it." Though telling by Jane and her wardrobe that was hardly daily.

Maura didn't mind though. She knew how hard it was to come across clean water in Lower District, let alone being able to pay enough. But with the snow, Jane would be able to at least gather her own water for washing clothes. The Healer sat down on the cloak with a grateful sigh.

"You can…always…" Maura trailed off.

"Hm?" Jane was distracted with a coyote who had arrived on the other side of the lake. The young male telling by his shape lowered his head to lick the ice from the lake.

"You can always come to me for anything, Jane. Anything."

Jane hovered her left hand over Maura's right, patting it like a friend would, "I don't need anything. But thank you."

"Of course." Maura let her thumb stroke the back of Jane's hand. Brushing it over the scar that was placed towards the center. The woman tensed. When had that gotten there? "Jane?"

"Another time, Maura. Not now."

"On both?"

"Yes."

"Your…job?"

"Yes." Jane cleared her throat and kept her gaze on the lake. She desperately needed Maura to at least pretend she wasn't staring at her. But the woman made it even more obvious when she pulled her hand away, repositioning it on Jane's shoulder.

"Another time then."


	6. Chapter 6: A Few Gifts for Christmas

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. My laptop broke not long ago so I have to fend for myself and catch someone with a computer. Anyways this is the Christmas chapter. It definitely moves us into rizzles territory, but Jane and Maura haven't really discovered what their feelings mean. I hope you enjoy and please leave a review if you liked it! (:**

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Christmas Eve arrived in Boston despite the growing warmth clearing away once foot-high snow. Families decorated their porches with colorful lanterns that tinted the ground with a rainbow of hues. Few adults worked, and only the less sophisticated children dared to play outside in their new holiday outfits. Stores along Central District advertised their products twice as much, just so they could sucker somebody into buying average presents at the last minute. Underneath it all, a sense of familiar happiness rained down on the three districts; it brought together the wealthy and the poor as if everyone was everybody's sister or brother. Christmas was the only holiday able to reunite the drifting society classes.

Jane's day started off with a loud snore. Jo Freyday was comfortably nestled between the toned woman and a handmade pillow Angela had given her last year. The small dog turned on its back and kicked its feet into the air as it wrestled the invisible bones threatening to wake it up. Jane chuckled, but didn't stay long to enjoy the sight. She made her way into the bath she had filled last night with snow. Sinking into the tub, Jane thought back to when Maura was over. She traced the outline of her scars, hoping her curious friend would forget about them altogether. But, Maura wouldn't. Jane knew even the smallest of details in her life left secret drove the other female close to anticipation.

If only Jane could find a way to explain what had happened without cowering in the shadow of her past. Korsak had saved her from that terrible moment she believed her existence would be terminated, yet Jane hadn't opened up to her boss. All those months and years chipped at Jane's tough exterior. They were like sandpaper rubbing away the facade, and revealing a trembling girl whose life had been changed forever. She often hoped that her nightmare was as fake and unreal as a child's; she could simply wake up and check under the bed, or in the closet, and relief would flood her like an unsuspecting victim.

Once the water was soiled, Jane slipped out to clothe herself in an outfit too horrid to say aloud. A fancy, sleek black gown laid on the edge of her bed. Its frilly neckline came down into a sharp v-cut that would indefinitely display the flawless dip between Jane's breasts. The bottom of the dress barely fluttered past her toes, and its mermaid sleeves (called that because of their dagged appearance) was trimmed with golden, floral designs. Yes, the gown had cost a fortune, but Jane didn't hesitate to buy it when Angela and Frank invited Maura over for Christmas Eve dinner.

Jane groaned while examining herself in the mirror, "I look like...hell, I don't know! Not me."

Jo barked in her sleep which added to Jane's conversation, "What was I even _thinking_? She'll laugh at me. I don't look like Upper District folk. I look like Lower District folk trying to look like Upper District folk. It's pointless."

Yet, Jane remained in her gown when she made it to her parents' home. Jane could already hear Maura's laughter drifting through the cracks of the structure; it echoed all around Jane until the woman almost believed she had been its target. Inside, the young Rizzoli woman spotted her brother, Frankie, first. He was poking a metal stick at the burning logs the fireplace stored, smiling whenever the fire breathed and came to life.

"Morning Jane. Looking like a lady for once. Wow, I'm impressed," Frankie greeted with an impish grin as he stood to brush off the ash on his vest.

"Oh, shut your trap. Is Maura here?"

Frankie rolled his eyes and pointed towards the back bedroom, "Yeah. She arrived early. Ma has her. I think they're going through your old stuff."

Jane's eyes widened completely, "Don't be fooling with me, Frankie. I'm in _no_mood to jest."

"Go look for yourself."

Jane half jogged, half ran, to the back bedroom where Maura's laughter had once sounded from. She immediately jerked the door open, demanding an answer just by the sheer glare she radiated. However, it was Jane who fell apart at the seams. She gasped for air when her dark eyes landed on the strawberry blonde; Maura was half naked. Maura, the epitome of propriety, was standing off towards the corner with both palms flattened against the wall while Angela struggled to tighten the corset around her voluptuous figure. Suddenly Jane's throat went dry. Maura locked gazes with the taller woman and blushed.

"Jane, I've taught you better! You do not barge in!" Angela huffed, straining her worn muscles more than she should.

"B-but Frankie told me..." Jane swallowed and coughed a bit when the lump went down a scratchy tunnel. Angela prompted her to continue, but Jane faltered, "What are you doing?"

"Your mother thought I might like to try on a more comfortable attire, so she's lending me an old dress of her's to wear. And a corset," Maura explained as she fought the urge to explore every dip and curve Jane's gown had to offer with her eyes, "Angela, you were...very thin. I'm not even sure I can fit into this corset."

"Of course you can! I'm just too _weak_to pull it all together. Janie, come here and lend me your service."

"But..Ma..."

"Janie!"

"Fine! Excuse me," Jane mumbled. She reached for the strings then pulled tightly. The air in Maura's lungs escaped sharply, but she stayed upright near the wall. Jane fumbled with some of the looser areas, noticing (to her distress) that Maura's bottom brushed against her hips.

"There...all done," Jane basically whispered beside the other female's ear; her voice dropping an octave lower. Her slender, rough hands situated themselves on each side of Maura's waist.

Angela had left them alone without understanding what both women were experiencing. She had left them in a time of need and vulnerability. The tension grew, just like it always did, until empty space became a mass of hot breaths. Maura was the first to move, but only to distance her body away from Jane's. The Healer's eyes narrowed in deep concentration; she had to think. But, of what? Her mind was fading into a sea of desire, her body was reacting to a woman's touch as if it were a man's, and the last thing she wanted to do was over-think anything. To her dismay, Maura felt Jane withdraw. Hazel eyes shifted to the side, searching for another set much deeper and darker than their own shade.

"Where's this dress Ma's got you wearing?" Jane asked with a hint of amusement in her tone.

Maura could only point (with a shaky hand) to a gown hanging in the nearby wardrobe. She suddenly felt bashful of her appearance. After all, Maura was only clad in a corset and ruffled, white panties. On the other hand, Jane was just...

"You look wonderful in gowns. You should wear them."

"Nah," Jane hummed while she carefully grabbed the garment from the wardrobe to hand to her friend, "I prefer my own style."

"Of course. I only meant both fit you well."

As Maura dressed, Jane awkwardly paced the room. Her eyes wandered. She'd feel the fire consuming her skin. Then it was gone in a flash, breaking her composure that much more, and coming back to tease her, as if it were a constant reminder that what she acknowledged was a dream within everyone's reality.

Maura stole a glance at her, "You really do look fine, Jane. Don't be nervous."

"Uh huh..."

Maura smiled tenderly in Jane's direction. She walked over to the taller woman and rested a hand on her forearm. For a brief second Jane tensed at their contact, but she relaxed visibly when Maura brushed her thumb over the freshly cleaned skin.

"You're _gorgeous_, my friend." Something about the rich sound of Maura's voice complimenting her sent Jane into oblivion.

"Not as gorgeous as-"

"Maura!" Tommy chimed with pleasure. He opened the door and, within a few seconds, pulled the Healer into a sensual embrace. Jane dropped her eyes to the floor; it was the perfect excuse to free her from herself. Now, she could sneak away.

She was doing just that when Maura spoke, "I was just saying how beautiful your sister looks this eve. Don't you agree?"

Both Rizzoli's froze and turned to skim each other over. Jane propped a hand on her hip, grinning while Tommy blinked his eyes dumbfounded by her appearance. If only Maura knew Jane hadn't worn a dress since she was eight years old. Tommy gave her a confident grin.

"You look beautiful, sis. I guess I better start watching out for your suitors. Who'd you dress up for?"

"Doesn't she always dress up for holidays and special events?" Maura wondered to Tommy aside.

Jane answered them both, "I have no suitors, and I only wore this dress because Ma has been pestering me too much lately about being a criminal catcher."

Maura refrained herself from sharing with Jane that the Rizzoli woman would be knighted soon. If King Quince ever got around to proceeding with the ceremony. The strawberry blonde directed her gaze outside the window; she patiently listened to the two bicker over a few topics she didn't find interest in. Once the siblings settled their conversation, the three of them made their way into the dining room where the smell of roast beef, steamed vegetables, and potato salad met their senses. Tommy looped a possessive arm around Maura's waist, ushering their guest further into the area. Jane ran a hand through her curly, black locks and smiled softly at her father who planted a kiss on his wife's cheek. She hoped in vain it wasn't fake as it seemed; she desperately wished he had forgotten all about his differences with Angela. That he had discovered his wife and him had three children, and a life together. He couldn't just abandon them like that.

Dinner was as delicious as it looked. Everyone sat back in their chairs to allow their food to digest properly. Conversations of work and play cut through the air like blades. Tommy kept his eye on Maura most if the time, but when he looked away, her eyes roamed over Jane's face. They twinkled with pure happiness when Jane grinned or laughed. Such feelings didn't conflict Maura, but made her feel reassured.

"Time for presents!" Angela declared as they all rose to their feet.

"_What_?" Jane blurted.

Frankie smirked at his sister's lost expression, "Ma and Pop decided to open up presents tonight, so Maura could share Christmas with us."

"And you didn't mind telling me? Ma?"

"Sorry, Janie, I thought you knew."

Maura laughed warmly, "Jane, it's alright. Your friendship, and your family is a gift itself. The best gift."

"But," Jane sighed, "I have your present at home. I thought we'd be seeing each other tomorrow."

"Maura has her own family to spend Christmas with, Janie. Now come on and let Maura open up her gifts from us."

Angela passed out the gifts to Maura one-by-one. The Healer beamed with merriment when she unwrapped various objects that sparked her inner child. Angela was always good at picking out presents; she never failed to impress her three children. Maura was added to her list.

"Thank you, everyone. These gifts are...they're wonderful," Maura finally concluded before she stood to go fetch a giant black, felt bag. "And these-these are for all of you."

Maura started passing out small boxes to each Rizzoli member. At last she stopped in front of Jane with a purple laced-wrapped box. Jane shook her head, refusing to take it. Maura frowned unsurely.

"When I give you your present, you can give me mine."

A sweet smile slowly appeared on Maura's face, "Agreed."

Angela burst into tears, drawing their attention, "This is...Maura..." She held a priceless silver locket in her hand complete with matching silver earrings.

"Please, Angela, it's the least I could do."

"Wow! Maura, a new pocket watch! That's..."

"Crazy?" Jane sarcastically hummed which amused Maura greatly.

"No," Frankie corrected, "Completely generous and amazing. Thanks, Maura."

"Thank you, Maura, for the..piece of paper..." Frank said uncertainly while flashing a thin sheet in the air.

Maura laughed anew, "No, no. It's the certificate of authentication. It's for a new plow. It was already assembled so I left it by the fields."

For the first time, Jane thought she saw tears glistening in her father's eyes, "I've been asking for one. Thank you. You're a blessing."

"Well, I got a pair of Styloins! These shoes cost a _fortune_." Tommy hugged Maura instantly, "My thanks, Maura."

"Of course, Tommy."

Jane leaned closer to Maura when everyone was busy with their gifts, "So, is this the part where I say thank you because I know your gift will be perfect?"

Maura smiled to herself. She faced Jane, "As long as I get to say thank you for yours."

"I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow then."

Christmas morning sprung from somewhere unknown. Snow dripped from the sky in bulks; it covered the muddy snow with a new batch of white flecks. Children yipped and hollered with glee as they used their new toys for previous antics. Their parents overlooked the chaos with smug smiles, knowing all too well that they had succeeded. Maura sat at the kitchen table with her mother; she was fascinated by how long Constance talked about her travels and not once asked about Maura's recovery.

"I brought you gifts from Paris, Maura. Such splendid fabrics they have there. You'll adore the outfits."

"I'm sure I will, Mother. Your gifts are near the fireplace. Have you opened them yet?"

"No, no. But, I will get to them later. For now, I should be off. A few of my students wanted me to head to the gallery this afternoon for a private showing. Some of their latest work. I hope it's presentable!" With that said, Constance was gone.

This left Maura to herself for bells until the clock sounded three late. A knock burdened Maura while she was reading a novel. The Healer traveled to the front and opened the door with a full smile that displayed her pearly white teeth.

"Maura."

"Jane. Come in, please."

Jane looked around before inclining her head in acceptance. She stepped over the threshold and into the furnished dwelling. Anxiety trickled down the dark-haired woman's spine; Jane fished through her bag while Maura shut the heavy front door behind them.

"Um...Merry Christmas!" Jane thrusted a tiny, red box into Maura's hands.

"Oh! Of course. Let me retrieve your's."

The two sat down on a sofa once they had their gift boxes in hand. Maura was about to open her's, but a hand stopped her from doing so.

"Let me admire your's first..."

"Very well," Maura breathed thickly. That hand affected her beyond recognition.

Jane was painfully slow while opening her gift. It was as if she savored each detail crafted into the box, as if she wanted to treasure the moment forever. Maura licked her lips, but steadily observed her friend.

Once Jane removed the lid, she gasped harshly, "Maura!"

"What?" Maura asked, worried. "You do not care for the gift...?"

"No, it's...it's...exactly what I've been needing and...it's..."

"Okay?"

"It's more than okay. I love it. Thank you, greatly, for this," Jane eventually finished. She traced the bindings of the glass book, reveling in its masterpiece. Jane knew what Maura intended this book to be for...Jane's poetry and songs.

The honesty in her voice drove Maura insane. The Healer craved a distraction so she didn't hesitate to reveal Jane's present for her. Minutes must have ticked by once she peered into the box. Her brain deceived her, or so she believed. Maura reached into the tiny box; she shivered when her fingertips brushed over the small metal object before picking it up.

"A key," Maura blinked. Surely what she was thinking was wrong. Misinterpretation. It happened one too many times on her part.

"For my place."

Maura hitched her breath. She interpreted correctly.


	7. Chapter 7: Taking Risks

Maura sat back on the sofa, staring at her friend - her friend that had just went back on her stubborn promise to never let anyone near her home, let alone permission to freely enter it at their disposal. The thought was too farfetched to be true. Deep within the chambers of Maura's chest, nestled behind her ribs, beat a drum far too loud to not be heard. Maura blushed; it was a fine blush that brought Jane to her clumsy senses.

"I know we're friends now, and I wanted to show you that. What better way to show that, Ma says, than to give a person a ticket into your life forever? I-I'm not implying...I think it's just a friendly thing to do. You can stop by anytime you need, anytime you want, and make yourself at home. My home is your home. That is what friends do, right?" Jane asked, partly unsure because she hadn't had a close friend that was a girl, or one that lived within the Upper District of Boston. If only she had the ability to read minds, Jane might've understood the vague expression lasting on the other female's face. She wanted to grab Maura's arm, just to make sure the image of the Healer wasn't a mirage. And of all the moments Jane had to endure an everlasting moment of silence, she prayed this one would end. "Maura?"

"I..." Maura whispered into thin air. Her hazel eyes gleamed, "You're wonderful, Jane Rizzoli. You're just so wonderful." Maura let tears slip down her smooth, fair skin and patter onto the floor like raindrops. She immediately reached until both arms were around Jane's neck, her face buried into the sweet smell of earth that rose from Jane's mane. Maybe it was because her mother hadn't opened a present that morning, or that she hadn't cried enough when her housewife passed, or even the fact that the book she was reading the second before her friend arrived wasn't that fascinating after all, but, whatever it was, Maura felt inclined to turn her head to the side and plant a soft, thankful kiss on Jane's cheek. She felt inclined to hold Jane closer to her body and feel the strength of the other woman mold against her skin. She felt inclined, so she did. "Thank you, Jane."

Naturally, arms enclosed Maura in a cuccoon, "Anytime." They stayed that way until Jane was sure Maura's small sobs had concluded, and that the woman wasn't afraid to pull away in shame of Jane seeing her so unlike herself. "Now, you want to tell me what's got you so upset?"

Maura shook her head, strawberry-blonde locks cascading down her shoulders perfectly. "I'm not upset, Jane. I'm surprised. I'm happy." After a tick, Maura stared straight into Jane's brown eyes and asserted warmly, "I love your gift. I do. You're a good friend."

"And so are you, if not a little emotional," Jane joked which had them both laughing in a heartfelt collision of tunes. Jane smiled over at Maura: she was innocent; she was kind; she was Jane's friend, and Jane felt so grateful to have her. The law woman pressed her thumb to her cheek where Maura's lips had been, "You didn't leave any mark behind, did you? I understand you Upper folks have 'make-up' nowadays."

Laughter came once more from deep within Maura's chest, "No, no. I haven't left a mark. I apologize for my unbecoming manner."

"You don't have to apologize for being yourself with me, Maura. Ever."

"I know," the shorter female smiled. "Merry Christmas, Jane Rizzoli."

"Baw Humbug," Jane smirked.

The following days, Maura had taken it upon herself to situate some things she owned into Jane's cottage. She wasn't moving in, no, but simply taking her gift to its advantage before Jane had time to go back on the deal. It didn't appear that Jane would though. All the while, the italian was ready to haul cabinets and dressers, tables and chairs, bookcases and baskets - among any other items Maura said she wanted there. One afternoon Frost had stopped by to inform Jane about the case they were still working on, but he couldn't even get out a word before Maura had put him to work. Frost and Maura bonded instantly, to the point that Jane swore she saw the relationship between Frankie and herself spark between the two.

The start of the New Year marked the last day they had moved everything in. Once done, Maura made Jane go with her to visit Jane's parents for a celebration her family held. All of Jane's old friends and relatives showed up for a good time, and weren't disappointed thanks to Angela's preparations. Maura snuck off to the kitchen with Angela, leaving Jane to the mercy of the guests.

"Jane," Mag, Jane's cousin, started, "why is it that you continue to work under the law force? Isn't it hard for a woman?"

"Not that I know of. I'm treated as fairly as everyone else."

"Yes, but, do ever the criminals joke about your gender? I would think that scum like them would."

"Some do," Jane relented, appeasing the blunt behavior of her cousin who's nose struck the heavens, "But, like you said, they're scum. I don't work for them. I work for the people. If a man wants to make a joke about my gender, I'll crack a joke about him going to the dungeons for a good amount of his life. What's fair is fair."

"Well said. I could never do such a dirty job. All my dresses would get ruined. How do you keep your dresses clean?"

"I don't wear dresses, Mag. You know that."

Mag lifted her plucked eyebrows as if she didn't, and glanced around at the people nearby. "I see. Well, happy New Year's." With that, Mag picked up the hem of her gown and flittered off to another group that Jane didn't care so much for. It was Angela's side of the family Jane had problems with. Her dad's side were all Lower District, hard-working, good folk that Jane enjoyed the company of. She wondered how her mother could stand those snobs, but at one time remembered Angela saying she just ignored them. She ignored their remarks, and knew that deep down they were jealous.

"Jane?" Maura asked beside her, bringing Jane back to reality. "Is everything alright? It looked as if that girl upset you?"

"No, just got me thinking."

Maura placed a delicate hand on Jane's forearm, her eyes scanning Jane's face in the meantime, "About?"

"How happy I am to have people like you and Frost in my life."

A smile formed on her friend's lips. She really didn't know how breathtaking she was. "You're wonderful, Jane Rizzoli."

"Yeah, yeah. Come, the sun is peeking."

A crowd gathered outside the back of the home. Each person bunched up in two's, all smiling up at the sky that lit beyond the hills. It symbolized the end of last year's adversities; it symbolized the start of new dreams. Maura peeked over at Angela who reached down and grabbed hold of her husband's hand, she looked across and found Frankie's hand around a younger woman's - the old classmate he hadn't gotten over, she spied an elderly couple resting their heads on eachother. Maura pursed her lips, and willed her hand to move towards Jane's. She lightly brushed the outside edge of her palm against Jane's, hoping the taller woman would notice. However, Jane was busy swatting away a gnat that continued to bother her. So, mustering up her courage, Maura gently took Jane's right hand into her left and stared forward. When Jane snapped her attention back to Maura, the blonde smiled pleasantly.

"What new goal will you be setting this year?"

Jane dared to flicker her gaze down at their interlocked hands before returning her eyes to Maura's, "I...don't have a goal. I guess be the same?"

"Any other individual and I would scorn them for being so selfish." Maura opened her mouth and cleared her throat before Jane could sputter a reply, "But, because you're as selfless as they come, I can only agree that that goal is the right way to start the year."

"Mine thanks. What about you, Miss Isles? Any goals you can set that you haven't already accomplished?" Jane sarcastically humored. A few people around them snickered, but it didn't affect Maura in the least.

"No, not really," Maura thought with a straight face, one that almost made Jane believe her until Maura twitched her lips with an amused expression. "Yes, actually. I want to shed my skin."

Blinking, Jane leaned forward to force her words more dramatically, "You want to skin yourself?"

Maura laughed, "No, Jane. I want to become something new, something better. To leave my past mistakes behind, not to dwell on them, but to learn and grow. Like a snake, Jane."

"Fine," Jane grinned, "I'll help you."

Maura hesitated, "How?"

"Tomorrow, I teach you how to fight with a sword."

* * *

**N/A: Really sorry about such late chapters guys. I've been super busy with school, and haven't had a laptop in god knows when. This is just a chapter to get me back on track. It might not be as great as the others cause I haven't written in a while, but I hope you like! Please leave comments if you still wanna see where this one goes! **


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